Painter's Pallet
by themindlessemblem
Summary: Brown. Now it was just him and the unmoving lump of soil
1. Blue: Guy, Lyndis

Themindlessemblem: So inspiration struck me today.

Serra: She decided that she was going to write a series of drabbles with only one thing in common.

Marisa: If you read the description, I'm sure you know what it is.

Marcia: COLORS!

Wendy: Not all of them will be blatantly based on the color though.

Serra: So, like, don't expect the characters innermost feelings on the hue or something.

Themindlessemblem: First up, Blue with Guy and Lyn!

…

Blue

The ocean was endless. Endless in all directions. Guy would have appreciated this more if he wasn't currently hanging over the side of the ship, puking up his dinner. His braid skimmed the top of the water as he leaned over with another retch. Pulling himself up with clammy hands, he let the railing take the weight off his feet and stared miserably at the cloudless sky, refusing to glance at the rolling waves.

"Are you alright?" A voice from behind him asked. Guy whipped around in shock, almost losing his balance as the deck gave another heave. Speaking of heaving, he spun about again to spare his visitor the sight of his seasickness.

Lady Lyndis of Caelin strolled across the floor easily and came to stand beside him, looking slightly wistful.

"The sea doesn't agree with you?" she asked. He just answered with a look, not trusting himself to open his mouth. She laughed softly. "Yes, I suppose that's obvious."

There was a silence.

"It almost reminds me of Sacae," Lady Lyndis whispered. "Only less familiar." He squinted at her in confusion, before turning his gaze to the water, trying to see what she meant. This was nothing like the soft grasses of his- and her- home. It was a deep blue hue, a color that you would only see on clothing there. Sacae, for all its virtues, wasn't a colorful place. Everywhere you turned, all you saw was grass. Plain, boring, wonderful, gray-green grass. Guy was suddenly seized with a wrenching homesickness that overwhelmed his nausea. He stood up a bit straighter.

"The way it moves is almost like the grass bending," Lady Lyndis was continuing. "Only less contained and more chaotic."

"That's a reason I don't like it," he answered. She turned him, looking slightly surprised at his ability to talk. "I have a feeling that I'll have enough chaos in my life without _this_." On 'this' he gestured vaguely in front of him. She nodded, her turquoise hair whipping in the wind. It was only a bit longer than his.

"I suppose that's true," she allowed, and then added, "But it is beautiful as well, and I have a feeling that I will need all the beauty in my life that I can get."

"So you choose to focus on that rather than its faults?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, turning away to gaze at the horizon again. "How could I not, with that sight there?"

He followed her eyes and gasped softly at the vision of the sun setting, throwing the blue of the ocean into contrast with yellows and oranges and reds and pinks. It was beautiful, he had to admit. He spared a look to Lady Lyndis and saw the reflection in her sapphire eyes was almost as enchanting as the real thing. He didn't notice when she began to stare back at him.

"Are you going back to Sacae when this is over?" she inquired. He nodded, not trusting himself to talk again, but for completely different reasons. She sighed.

"I wish I could return," she murmured. "I'll go back eventually. But for now, the blue of this ocean will have to suffice."

They stood there a while longer in companionable silence, all thoughts of sea sickness locked away. Because thinking about her dark blue eyes was so much better.

…

Themindlessemblem: So, did you see the blue in there?

Serra: If not, tell us how to show it better!

Wendy: If you want a color written or something, just leave a request in a review.

Marisa: So, review.

Themindlessemblem: If no one has complaints, the next one will probably be Yellow with Nino and somebody else.

Marcia: See ya then!


	2. Yellow: Nino

Themindlessemblem: Hey ya! Welcome back to Painter's Pallet. Nice to see you again.

Serra: So, we forgot to put a disclaimer in the last installment. Oops…

Marcia: So we're just going to make one for the whole fic!

Marisa: Themindlessemblem does not own Fire Emblem. All characters and places in this fic belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. Or Intelligence Systems. I can't remember which it is.

Wendy: There we go! All done!

Themindlessemblem: So here's Yellow featuring Nino!

…

Yellow

She was the sunlight in this dark era. Her bright smile made them all smile in return, no matter how despondent you were feeling. Still childlike and innocent despite the horrors and atrocities she had seen in her short life, she was the hope that they all clung to.

She almost glowed when she was excited or happy, her easy grin twinkling like a star. She bounced from person to person, from place to place like a comet, never stopping for long, but always long enough to lift their spirits.

First to her "Uncle" Legault, who smiled behind his indignation at being called as such. Because, no matter how much she annoyed him at times, she was Nino and he loved her as he would part of his family. She'd sit cross legged in front of him for a few minutes as he told her fairy tales that she somehow still believed in. After a story or two, she'd spring up and give him a hug before moving on.

She always went to her real uncle next, Canas the shaman. The tales Legault had told her would have ignited a fire in her for her to learn more. Painstakingly, she'd slowly trace her letters on the paper, clapping in excitement when she got something right. Stuttering over words Canas wrote, but not letting herself get down when she got something wrong. Nino was never sad about anything.

Rebecca was next and usually Wil and Dart because they were nearby. Nino's presence was like a magnet, drawing people in. They'd chatter and gossip and commiserate, although their problems seemed less pressing in the wake of her shining face. Sometimes, they'd eat a meal prepared by Rebecca together, and sometimes, Rebecca would try to teach Nino how to cook. Afterwards, they would emerge, covered in flour, chocolate, and egg whites, yet chuckling at their mishaps. Because they were with Nino, and that made it okay.

As the sun started to set, she'd rush to Florina and beg her to take her on a ride with Huey, to which Florina would stammer out an agreement. Nino would squeal in joy and wrap her arms around her in a bear hug for a brief second, before jumping on the Pegasus's back with Florina close behind. They would soar across the yellow sky, the sun having to try in order to compete with Nino's light. Finally, when the sky turned black, they would touch down and Florina would place a daffodil in Nino's hair. Because it suited her, and that's what sisters did.

Before turning in, she'd catch the lords heading to their own tents and keep them entertained for a few minutes by telling them of her misadventures that day. Even Hector would throw back his head and laugh a roaring guffaw at some of her tales. But eventually, Lyn would gently push her toward her tent, telling her to rest up for tomorrow. You never know what might happen.

So, at Lyn's urging, she'd head to the tent which she shared with Jaffar and sink onto her sleeping mat in exhaustion. The Angel of Death would watch her with an unreadable expression. In a tired voice, she'd tell him stories from back when she'd been in the Black Fang, when Sonia had been her mother, nostalgic for her ignorance. She'd fiddle with her necklace sadly, losing her spark for just a few moments as she let her tears fall like rain, because even the sun must be covered by clouds occasionally. It was on these nights that Jaffar would realize how much he needed her smile, and he would try everything to get it back before she fell to sleep.

Because, Nino was a ray of bright yellow sunshine, and without her no one would have the strength to carry on.

...

Themindlessemblem: There you have it! In this one, I just thought of how I always wear yellow and look to the sun when I'm feeling sad. I guess I just thought that Nino was kind of like the group's own personal sun.

Serra: And the sun is yellow.

Marisa: Sorta.

Wendy: Anyway, thanks to FeelingsofNow for her constructive review!

Marcia: And in return… Drumroll please!

Themindlessemblem: Purple will be the next color. I'm thinking something with Myrrh and Ephraim's friendship. It's already started, so it should be up soon.

Wendy: 'Til next time.

Serra: Constructive criticism always appreciated! Hint, hint…


	3. Purple: Myrrh, Ephraim

Okay, so it's my muses off day today. They're off playing video games and eating whipped cream out of the can. Darn them.

I won't be updating this weekend, I don't think, although I might do something on Sunday. I'm with my dad tonight and tomorrow, and I don't have a computer there. Also, I have some homework, so whether or not I update will depend on how fast I do that.

Without further ado, here's Purple featuring Ephraim and Myrrh. But mostly Myrrh.

…

Purple

She walked slowly through the cemetery, scanning the names written on the tombstones from habit. She had basically memorized all of them by now. Her wings were unhidden. Nobody was here, so there was no need for secrecy. Ghosts aren't exactly the most gossipy beings.

Finally, she reached the familiar grave. Kneeling down in front of it, she gently cleared away the bits of moss and ivy that had grown while she had been away. When it was clean, she turned and sat, leaning back against it.

"Sorry I haven't visited in while," Myrrh whispered. "I've been a little busy. Being the world's last remaining dragon has its responsibilities."

She closed her eyes, smiling a bit. "I remember the first time we met. It was so very long ago, but it still seems as if it were yesterday. Just yesterday that you were here with me…"

"_Look at this! A lone girl! And look at that rock on her too!"_

_Myrrh gazed about fearfully, clutching her precious dragonstone to her chest. Leering faces closed in on her, assured of their victory._

"_Come on girly, we won't hurtcha'!"_

_Her stone was wrenched from her grasp and she cried out in fear. Rough rope scratched her wrists as her arms were roughly tied behind her back. Her eyes closed. This was surely the end of her._

"_What do you think you're doing?"_

_Her eyes snapped open to take in the sight of her savior. He stood up straight, with three horsemen flanking him. And even through his face was bruised and tired, he was obviously not a broken man._

_Her captors hightailed it as the party walked up to her. She gazed at him fearfully as he knelt down beside her._

"_Are you alright?" he asked her, cutting her bonds. She nodded mutely and he grinned. "Good. I'm Ephraim. What's your name?"_

"And I told you," Myrrh said, chuckling. "Even though I knew that once you saw my wings, you'd be gone."

"Yet my wings didn't strike fear into your heart like all the others. You were startled alright; even a saint would have been. But you just laughed and said that you might as well be prepared for anything on this journey. And you took me with you."

She paused, remembering something. She glanced down at her hands to see the African violets she had brought.

"Oh, yes. I brought you your favorite flowers. Remember when you gave me some? Almost as soon as we'd joined back up with Eirika. You said they were your favorite because…"

"…_They're so unique," Ephraim told her as she examined them. "Almost like people. There are so many different varieties, yet they are all equally beautiful. However, I must admit, I do hold a soft spot for the blues and the purples._

_Myrrh glanced at him in wonder._

"_I never knew flowers were so many colors!" she exclaimed, and then frowned when she realized what he had said. "Why do you hold a soft spot for the blues and the purples?"_

"_Because they remind me of my sisters," he answered simply, leaning down to give her a kiss on the top of the head._

"Thank you for being my brother, Ephraim," Myrrh murmured. "I love you. Always."

And with that, she placed the purple bouquet at the foot of his grave and stood up. Walking away, the wind ruffled her indigo hair, and she could have sworn she heard his voice.

"I love you too, Myrrh,"

But when she turned back there was no one there.

…

So. Love it? Hate it? I'm not as proud of this one as I was of my others. Could you see the purple.

I hope I did FeelingsofNow's favorite color justice. Purple to me is a very deep color, sad and yet hopeful at the same time. Also, I have a lot of fond memories relating to purple, so that's why Myrrh had the flashbacks. Also, she's the reminiscing type as well.

In case you were wondering, this was probably set a few decades after everyone from Sacred Stones has passed away. But Myrrh's still alive because she's the Great Dragon.

Pretty depressing huh?

If no one has requests, the next one will be Red with Leila. Expect it up, at the very latest, on Tuesday.

Until, then review and keep on livin' life.


	4. Red: Leila

Themindlessemblem: Hey! So, I lied. I am posting something today.

Serra: Her dad dropped her back home earlier than she'd expected.

Wendy: So she had time to type this up!

Marisa: Whoopee.

Marcia: This one is a little shorter than the others were though.

Themindlessemblem: But I'm pretty sure that it's still good.

Serra: Also, the color is a little clearer than last time.

Wendy: We hope, anyway.

Themindlessemblem: So, enjoy Red featuring Leila!

…

Red

She moved soundlessly through the hallways of Dragon's Gate. She hardly had to think about being quiet anymore, due to her years of spying for Ostia. This was a good thing, seeing as she was caught up in her thoughts.

Lord Hector, Lord Eliwood, and Lady Lyndis had just arrived on the Dread Isle. Nergal had found out about it, and had sent his morph, Ephidel, to exterminate them. However, strong the three lords were, they were not even close to being able to defeat an enemy of Ephidel's caliber. Which was why she was going to alert them now. They needed time to form a strategy.

She knew that if she did this, there was no chance she'd be able to continue spying here. But her liege's safety came before her mission. Also, Matthew was there… She didn't know what she would do if he died.

This was her first blunder. She would realize this later, when blood covered her clothes. She should have known that they could take care of themselves.

Wrapped up in her thoughts, she forgot to check if there was anyone following her, wondering why she looked so nervous.

Second mistake. Second red slash on her previously flawless record.

She took the most straightforward route to the doors. Anyone would have known where she was going. Anyone would have wondered why she was heading to the exits at this hour. Anyone would have reported it.

Three strikes and you're out. Or, in this case, dead.

She had just reached the doors, had almost made it out, when a voice sounded from behind her.

"Leila? Where are you going?"

She froze for an instant, and then turned around to face Ephidel warily. She attempted to keep her composure, but she knew her panic was slipping through.

"Lord Ephidel!" she exclaimed. "The sentries… I was going to check-"

He interrupted her with a click of his tongue and a shake of his head. Her hand reached slowly behind her, and she grasped the door handle, readying herself to make a break for it.

"You overheard didn't you? Alas. I had such hopes for you… Jaffar!"

In a flash she had pushed open the door and turned, intent on getting away, only to be met with cold crimson eyes. She reached for her hip, to be met only with a half broken iron sword.

"The punishment for traitors is death," The Angel of Death stated emotionlessly. She screamed as he launched himself toward her, twirling his Killing Edges.

Her middle exploded in pain. She sank to her knees, surrounded by a dark crimson puddle of blood.

Was all this…hers?

She clutched her yellow cloak to her wound, trying to stanch the flow of liquid. It was ruined now. Matthew would have been disappointed in her for ruining his gift…

Matthew. Suddenly, she could see him there, rounding the corner with a flourish of his red cloak, eyes hard and determined, mouth set in a grim line. Determined to save her.

But then, he saw how much she had erred in her mission. His eyes suddenly lost their steel and he turned back around, shaking his head. Leaving her to die there. Alone.

"Matthew…" she whispered. She opened her mouth again, wanting to apologize, to beg him to come back. But she couldn't feel her lips anymore. Where had they gone? Her whole body was fading.

The last strength drained out of her. She collapsed in her pool of blood face first, the echo of her love's careless laughter ringing in her ears.

Her blood slowly dyed her cloak a dark red.

…

Themindlessemblem: So…

Marcia: What did you think?

Marisa: Tell us.

Serra: Also, thank you to Teaspoon and FeelingsofNow for their reviews.

Wendy: We're glad that you think we did good on Purple

Marcia: And thanks to Teaspoon for her request!

Marisa: We will honor it.

Themindlessemblem: Which means that next will be Black with Lloyd and Linus Reed. It will either be up tomorrow or Monday.

Serra: See ya then!


	5. Black: Lloyd, Linus

I fired my muses. Too much of a hassle to write. Also, my sister suggested it, and I listen to her because she's older and wiser. Or whatever.

So this here is Black. It is A LOT shorter than the others, but I like it well enough even without the length. I hope you agree.

Without further ado, here is Black with Lloyd and Linus. Requested by Teaspoon.

…

Black

The Mad Dog stalked away from the battlefield, pulling his last remaining troops with him. He still couldn't believe he was doing this. Eliwood was an evil noble! Just because he cared about the villages didn't right his crimes! His crimes…

What were his crimes? He hadn't seemed like a terrible man during their short conversation. He had even been willing to surrender his life. Linus had never met a noble who would do that.

His troops had pulled ahead of him now, but Linus, being totally absorbed in his thoughts, didn't notice. Soon, they were all just a speck in the distance. No one looked back to see how their commander was faring. They figured that he could take care of himself. And he could. Against most opponents.

"Got to talk to my brother…" Linus mumbled. "He would know what to make of this… Maybe we shouldn't trust that woman."

Suddenly, his spine stiffened. Something was off. The air…something was not right here. He felt a presence by his side and he spun about yelling.

A red haze enveloped all of his senses, crushing his rib cage in on itself. He choked, grasping his chest as he sank to his knees. Spots bloomed across his eyesight as the last air left his lungs.

Then, it was gone. In its place was a woman who looked eerily like Sonia, but colder. HE tried to focus, but she kept sliding in and out of focus.

"Impossible…" he gasped. "You… weren't…I…"

"Mad Dog Linus," the woman stated, completely unaffected by his attempted words. "Such magnificent quintessence."

And with that, she was gone. Linus felt his strength desert him. He fell onto his hands, struggling to stay awake.

"Cur-curses… I've…blunder…" Linus couldn't remember what he was going to say. "…I'm…sorry, Brother."

And his world faded to black.

…

The White Wolf stood over his brother's motionless body. His sword hung limply by his side, brushing the dirt ground.

"You fool," Lloyd whispered."After all I told you!"

He stabbed his sword into the ground and knelt by Linus's side. Closing his eyes, he offered up a short prayer. All of the rage he had felt when he had first saw Linus faded away. It was replaced only with a terrible grief, and a resigned acceptance. Lloyd rose and took back his sword.

"I'll send you up their corpses as a gift," he told his brother. "As long as you will wait for me. I'll be joining you shortly."

And with that, he turned his back on the dead man and headed back to the fortress. He was ready for his mission of capturing Eliwood. The corrupt noble. Although, Lloyd didn't much care about that anymore. All he wanted was a little revenge.

Because, without Linus, his world was black.

…

Yay for melodrama! Yay angst! Yay death! Not really… Boo death!

So, I hope I did this well for Teaspoon. I must say I lacked a little inspiration for this one. I don't really have a good idea of Lloyd and Linus's characters. Tell me it I wrote them well, willya?

This is set at the end of Chapter 23, when Linus is the boss. The map without the fog and with Geitz. Poor Reed brothers. They really have a tough time this chapter.

I'm thinking my next one will be Pink. I feel like I haven't been writing very much happy stuff in here. Blue and Yellow I guess… But the other ones had death in them.

So expect something light and fluffy next time. It will either be up tomorrow or Wednesday. I hope to see you then!


	6. Pink: Neimi, Colm

Heya! So I'm back with Pink. This color is not very obvious in here. I don't think I mention it once. It's just the mood that is pink.

Without further ado, here is Pink, starring Neimi and Colm.

…

Pink

She rested her head on one hand as she watched the camp wearily. All the couples were sitting together, laughing together, being together. Everyone was with someone. Except her.

Stupid Valentine's Day.

Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika had decided to give them this day as a break from their trek toward Renais. They thought it would boost troop morale and give everyone a chance to get all rested up. She crossed her arms and leaned back on the tree behind her. This was certainly _not _boosting _her _morale. She had no one to spend time with today.

Stupid morale boosting.

Amelia was over by her tent, smiling at Ewan through a bouquet of red roses he had obviously given her. Lute was thoroughly examining a wrapped present Kyle had given her in order to figure out what it was. Even Vanessa was gaping at the chocolate Forde had gotten up the energy to give to her.

Stupid gifts.

She didn't understand why some people were so lucky. Lucky to have people to care about. Lucky to have people who cared about them as well. Lucky to be able to receive and give gifts. Lucky…

Stupid luck.

She glared in the direction of Joshua and Marisa. She didn't have anything against them personally. They just happened to be the people who were unfortunate enough to be talking to Colm.

Stupid Colm.

She turned her gaze to her empty hands. He hadn't given her anything today, even though they were best friends. I mean, she guessed that it would be a little bit awkward because they were _just _friends.

But still. Shouldn't he have given her something? Didn't he like her at all? She knew that she could be annoying at times, with her habit of crying and clumsiness. But he had always been there for her. Until now. Even though, technically, he didn't have to be there for her. Valentine's Day was for lovers, which they weren't. Although she sometimes wished…

No. Shouldn't think of that. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and angrily brushed them away. They were replaced by more, and soon her hands couldn't keep catching all of them. They cascaded down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. Never-ending waterworks. Yeah, that was her.

"Neimi?"

She didn't look up, knowing who it was. She just shifted a little so her hair covered most of her tearstained face. Colm eased his way to the ground beside her.

He didn't say anything for awhile. Neither did Neimi. She just let the pressure of his shoulder on hers comfort her, and gradually her tears began to slow, and then finally stop. The silence continued.

Suddenly, a beautiful silver bow was placed on her lap. Startled, she glanced at Colm, forgetting her red eyes. He was staring at his lap and fidgeting a little.

"Colm?" she asked hesitantly. He stiffened.

"W-well, I didn't want to get you something stupid like flowers or chocolate…" he defended himself. "And your old bow is half broken, I don't know why- Oof!"

Neimi talked him from the side in a bear hug, her bow now on the ground beside her. After his initial shock wore off, he returned it, grinning.

"I guess you like it then?" he asked, laughing. She nodded against his side, eyes beginning to well up again, only this time, with happy tears.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so stupid after all…

…

So… what did you think? Less angsty than the last ones? I'm hoping so. I'd like to know if I'm able to write happy stuff. It's useful, happy stuff is.

Next color I think will be…Either Brown or Gold. And yes, I know they are very similar colors. But I have good ideas for both of them, so don't burst my bubble.

Now, I'm off to go serve dinner to some gossipy Christian youth (excluding my sister from the gossipy part). See ya next time on Painter's Pallet!


	7. Gold: Serra, Matthew

Hey there everybody! Welcome back to Painter's Pallet!

So, as you can see, I decided on Gold as my next color. And when I sat down to write it, my previous idea, with Farina and Dart and treasure just slipped away.

*Poof*

And this came out.

I think it's because of severe lack of sleep. It makes me forgetful, and somehow ties things that aren't at all related together. Or maybe it's just because I like Serra and Matthew… Oh, who cares? Anyway, sorry if this seems to be absolutely unrelated to the color. I tried.

Thanks to Valorous Roland for all the tips on my previous ones.

Without further ado, here is Gold with Serra and Matthew

…

Gold

She was immature and irresponsible.

Everyone told her so. Hector, Oswin, Matthew… And it wasn't like she didn't deserve it. She was well aware of how tiresome she could be. But she hated the phrase "immature and irresponsible". Couldn't they put it in a nicer term like…"young for her age and strong-willed"? Yes…That would be a nice change. Almost sounded like a compliment.

"Maaatthh-yooouuu," she whined, noting his wince with a little regret. "Where are we going?"

"Weren't you listening?" he hissed. "There's treasure over this way. And now that you can use light magic, you can heal me while defending yourself if there are enemies."

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger thoughtfully, a bad habit she had picked up while she had been a child. She didn't need to _look _like a ditz.

"What kind of treas-" she started, only to have Matthew clamp a hand over her mouth.

"Shut up, Serra," he whispered in her ear. "I hear something."

Serra shut up quickly. Say what you want, but she had some sense of self-preservation. A strand of Matthew's sandy blond hair fell between her eyes. It was long now, for no one had much time for vanity in a war. Looking at it cross eyed, she distracted herself from the feeling of Matthew's breath on her cheek.

She lost track of how long they stood like this, but all too soon he relaxed and dropped his hand from her lips.

"They're gone," he murmured softly. "Let's move."

She struggled to keep up with his long strides while staying silent. Every time her foot came down too hard and made a loud _thump_, he would throw her a scathing look over his shoulder. She would merely mouth a "sorry" and redouble her efforts.

She didn't know why she tried so hard around him.

She focused so much on her feet that she didn't notice when he stopped, and she slammed into his back. She quickly retreated and came up beside him. He was patting his pockets and wearing a frustrated expression.

"Gotta be here somewhere…" he muttered, scanning the ground. His eyes found her feet and traveled up until they reached her hair. He stared at her right pigtail for a second before smiling.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed, reaching up to draw out a bobby pin. She yelped indignantly, but he just rolled his eyes and inserted it into the lock of the door. She hadn't noticed that it was there until now.

The door swung open with a small click, revealing a few treasure chests. Matthew grinned like a kid who had gotten some free food.

"Score!" he said, dashing forward. Serra, realizing that her work was done, retreated out the door.

She hadn't noticed how dark it was in the palace until now that she was alone. She glanced behind her, watching the torch reflections on Matthew's hair as he darted about, making it glow gold. Seeing him reassured her and she turned back around and began to walk.

Not long afterwards, she felt icy hands on her neck. She froze, eyes alighting on an enemy shaman she hadn't noticed. His hands were reached towards her with a spell, and she found she couldn't scream as she stayed in eye contact with the creature.

Because it was a creature, an "it", something not alive. Its hair was as black as the shadows around her. And its eyes were gold, glowing in the flickering light of the flames. Only, this gold didn't reassure her, didn't give her the strength to keep going like Matthew had. This gold rendered her immobile with fear, and she knew that she was not going to see the end of this battle. She closed her eyes in defeat.

"SERRA!"

Eyes snapped open just in time to see a red and gold blur cutting down her assailant. Matthew turned to face her, eyes wild with fear. He rushed to her side, shaking her shoulders.

"Serra! Serra, can you hear me? Serra!"

"Matthew…Stop shaking me," she ordered.

He stopped immediately, breathing out a sigh. He pushed his hair out of his face, now returned to its normal sandy blond in the darkness.

"You're so immature, Serra! Ordering me around after you just left without a word! Speaking of which, how could you just leave by yourself! You're so irresponsible! We're in the middle of a battle!"

She felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She had never been so happy to be insulted. When Matthew paused for breath, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso. He stiffened in surprise, but quickly relaxed and returned the hug.

"Thank you…" Serra whispered, letting herself weep in relief. She felt, rather than saw, him smile a bit.

"You're welcome."

And they stayed like that in the unsteady golden light of the flames.

…

Sorry for making you sit through that. Or, if you think it was awesome, sorry for seemingly fishing for compliments.

I only fish in Lost In Blue 2.

Thank you, Valorous Roland, for your suggestion of White with Florina. It shall be next. Although it might just be her, thinking to herself rather than talking with someone… or maybe not… I'll have to think about it.

Au revoir chicitas. Drop in a review while I'm gone wontcha'?


	8. White: Florina, Farina, Fiora

Bonjour monsieurs and mademoiselles. Welcome back to Painter's Pallet.

I live in Virginia, where we have been getting some terrific snow. We're supposed to get like thirty to thirty two inches tomorrow. They already cancelled schools for tomorrow.

So, I guess the snow inspired me to write about snow. That and Valorous Roland, whose suggestion this was.

By the way, previously mentioned person, I haven't had the chance to read your story yet, but I promise I will do it soon.

Although it's very likely I might get snowed in at my dad's house, where I don't have a computer. If that happens, don't expect a review until like…Tuesday or Wednesday. Also, I didn't make this piece all about Florina. I hope you don't mind.

Now, here's White, starring the Pegasus sisters.

…

White

Florina leaned back against her Pegasus, Huey, thoughtfully watching the falling snow. The flakes had all but covered her hair and clothes. Anyone passing by would have had to strain to see her. This was okay, because right now, she didn't want to be seen.

All the snow reminded her of Ilia, her homeland. Lycia hadn't seen this much snow in a long time, but it was a regular occurrence in Ilia. It was snowy and cold almost all year-round. As a wave of homesickness swept over her, she forced herself not too cry, knowing her tears would only freeze upon her face. But she missed home so much. Home…and her sisters.

Not that her sisters were even in Ilia. Fiora always flew to Eturia every once in a while to visit Lord Pent, and to Lycia to visit her and Sain. Farina, on the other hand, was off making a name for herself as the most notorious, not to mention only, female pirate on the seven seas. And she was still serving Caelin, although it was really Ostia now. She couldn't bring herself to leave Lyn, who was now married to Lord Hector. However, all three of them knew that wherever they went, their home was in Ilia. It would always be Ilia.

She wished she could see one of them now. She shuddered with cold, huddling closer to Huey and closing her eyes to block out the whiteness.

And she thought about her sisters.

…

Farina leaned against the railing of the ship, watching the tiny flakes of snow fall from the sky, melting as soon as they hit the ground. Murphy nickered in pleasure, tossing his head about. It was so warm here, compared to Ilia, there was never any of the white stuff. Somehow though, the sky had found the courage to try and snow.

Wiping up some of the melted flakes from the deck, she missed how much snow they would get back in Ilia. Back home. There would even be snow in the summer there. She, Florina, and Fiora would always go out and play in it, even as they grew older. In the biggest snowfalls, she would even find it in her not to pick a fight with Fiora. For once, she would be totally content and unworried. Now all she had was water.

Not that water was bad. Smiling over at the waves, she knew that water wasn't bad at all. But it would never be as good as snow.

She caught a flake her tongue, holding the drop of water there carefully. She knew she looked ridicules with her tongue stuck out, catching bits of snow, but right then, she didn't care very much. She swallowed slowly, relishing the taste of the icy cold liquid. Then she turned to face the wind, banishing the snow from her mind.

But she still thought of her sisters.

…

Fiora leaned against the cool boulder, resting her cheek on it tiredly. Her Pegasus stood beside her, ready to get going again at any time. The blizzard billowed around them. It was going to be a pretty big snowfall today. It was already up to Fiora's knees and showing no signs of stopping.

Fiora let a small smile flit across her face. She had always loved the snow, along with both of her sisters. But somehow, it felt rather empty without Florina's stammer and Farina's teasing. The smile disappeared as suddenly as it had come.

She had been the only one in their family to choose to return to Ilia. Farina had gone off gold hunting, and Florina had chosen to further her training in Lycia. Although she respected their choices, she desperately wished now that they had come back with her. They had always had their best times in the snow. It was one of the few times she and Farina got along without a hitch, and that had always made Florina so happy.

She leant down and scooped up a handful of snow, forming it into a snowball. Then, she threw it out at nothing. Giggling, she did it again and again until she collapsed; trying to contain her laughter, which only turned it into tears.

Slowly, she stood up, turning to her Pegasus who was looking at her like she was crazy. She climbed on his back and they took off, leaving the ground far behind them. Fiora was laughing, crying, acting like a general nutcase.

And thinking about her sisters.

…

So…didya like it? Didja didja didja!? Only you can say. I can't read your mind.

Anyway, I might not update for a while. I'm working on a real story, and I want to focus on that for a bit. Maybe in one to two weeks I'll come back?

Although, knowing me, I'll probably end up trashing my story and updating this in two days.

Either way, I hope you'll miss me! I miss you already! But, look at my wrist! I gotta go! (anyone who knows where that's from is officially one of the awesomest people ever. If you don't know, figure it out! I'm not telling! That would be horrible! *hint hint*)

Ciao you crazy kids!


	9. Green: Lute

Yo dudes and dudettes. Sup?

So, today I made a snowman head. It had disobeyed to Law of the Snow and it's head had to be sliced off.

Not really, we just suck at making snowmen.

I'm not sure what to call this chapter, who is featured. I guess I'll just say Lute, because its simpler than saying like four different characters.

Also, yes the quote from before is from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog. But, you can't just look it up!!! You have to watch it or you won't get how funny it really is! You have to see how incredibly lame and awesome at the same time it is!

Ahem. Sorry about that.

Thanks for the review.

And without further notice, here is Green with Lute!

…

Green

She propped herself on her elbows, seemingly studying a small bug with rather unique markings on it. Really though, she was lost in her thoughts. She hadn't seen Kyle in a while, and it was strange how bored she was without his company. She plucked a blade of grass from the ground and twirled it idly, wondering where he was.

Her question was answered when she heard a giggle and glanced over to see him and Syrene chatting. Obviously, by the way she was grinning and holding one hand by her mouth, Kyle had just made her laugh. She frowned and looked away. She hadn't known that they were friends. That was odd, seeing there wasn't much she didn't know, as she observed the camp on a daily basis. But, she guessed that it just must have slipped by her.

She returned her attention to the piece of grass in her hands, putting her other hand on it as well. It was kind of pathetic looking now that it had been ripped up. Fragile and useless looking. It didn't compare to how it had looked among the other plants, growing happily. She had ruined its strength by yanking it out.

Another laugh, deeper in tone, drew her eyes again to the previous couple. Kyle was laughing this time, a hand on Syrene's shoulder. She gritted her teeth. Unconsciously, she ripped the grass in half, venting her unexplainable frustration.

Something about how they were looking in each other's eyes just rubbed her the wrong way. It was too familiar and companionable for her liking. Her throat grew tight, and she was seized with the almost uncontrollable urge to send a bolt of lightning at Syrene's head.

Her eyes opened wide when she realized her wish, and she hurriedly looked away, controlling herself. What was this feeling? It made her feel almost sick with the burning sensation that had seized her stomach. She didn't know what was wrong with her.

Maybe…Artur would know. He always seemed to have a name for her feelings. As much as she hated to admit it, he was smarter than she was when it came to things like this. Abandoning the two bit of grass in her hand, she got up and went in search of him.

She found him resting by a tree, eyes closed and a slight smile on his face, seemingly enjoying the warm sunlight that filtered into a soft green glow as it went through the leaves. She prodded him with her foot and his eyes flew open. He grimaced up at her.

"Honestly, Lute, was that necessary?"

She didn't answer and sat down in front of him, pulling her knees to her chest. Artur watched her with a bit of concern.

"Are you alright, Lute?"

She shook her head and sighed. He looked at her with a bit of confusion, wondering what was wrong with her.

"I just…I don't know…I keep this feeling and…" Lute trailed off, not sure how to phrase what she was going through.

"And you don't know what it is?" Artur suggested kindly, and she nodded. "Well then, why don't you tell me what you're feeling? You don't have to name any names or anything."

She nodded again and bit her lip, gathering her thoughts. He waited, watching her face carefully.

"Well," she started slowly. "I guess it's just…Whenever I look at them I…feel this kind of burning in my stomach and am suddenly seized with the desire to hit something…or someone…and then I feel so sad and lost for a minute and I have to leave before I start crying."

She gazed at him expectantly for an answer. He seemed to be thinking, and eventually graced her with a wistful half grin.

"You're feeling jealousy Lute. Envy is another way to put it. It's when you want to possess something that belongs to someone else, or something that you think belongs to someone else. When you want something that's not yours. Does that make sense?"

She just looked at him for a minute, before getting up and leaving. Artur leaned back again against the tree trunk letting out a long breath. Knowing that she has to get over it on her own.

Lute stumbled back to her tent, Artur's words echoing in her head.

"It's when you want to possess something that belongs to someone else. When you want something that's not yours."

She shoved open the flap and practically fell through the opening. Collapsing on her cot, she took out a small hand mirror and gazed at herself in it.

"You're feeling jealousy, Lute. Envy is another way to put it."

The way he had put it, it was an awful, evil thing to be feeling. Before her eyes, the confused reflection in the mirror twisted into a terrible, green, mottled, _jealous_ monster. She threw the mirror across the room and lay back on her cot with a thump.

It wasn't possible. She didn't covet Kyle.

And he certainly didn't belong to Syrene.

He just couldn't.

…

Heh. Lute doesn't understand her feelings.

Sorry for everyone out there that doesn't like the Lute/Kyle pairing or the Kyle/Syrene pairing. It had to be done.

Please grace me with a review if you so wish.

In the words of Tigger, TTFN! Ta ta for now!


	10. Orange: Priscilla

Konnichiwa!

I am really in the mood for writing Priscilla today. I wrote her a haiku (albeit not a very serious one) and I'm even starting something for her in Cogito Ergo Sum.

She just strikes me as someone who has many different sides to her and many different ways her actions can be interpreted. She's an interesting character to write, I'll give her that. I'll always love Serra best though.

I went to go see the Percy Jackson movie today. It was pretty good, although it changed a lot of stuff from the book. Just a little info for all you movie goers out there. Definitely something you should see if you have time.

Here's Orange with Priscilla!

…

Orange

Sometimes it seemed like her life was a bunch of endings. Ending of life, ending of happiness, ending of love. A muted blur of what she should of or would of or could of done. A whole series of beautifully despairing sunsets.

It all started at the ending of her happy life with her brother and parents. It was ripped away, at an age where she could not be expected to know what was happening. Before she knew it, she was far away with new parents, wondering where her life had gone.

It was then that she'd cut her long hair. Raymond had always said he thought it would look cute short. She stuck a white feather behind her ear and headed out, keeping her head down and eyes averted like a good girl should. She was seen and not heard. Just a piece of eye candy.

And she became fed up of the noble life eventually. She hired herself an escort in the form of a grumpy young mage and galloped away, leaving behind only a note and a bit of wasted time. And she twisted the ring around her finger and hoped.

Her wishes were ignored and cast aside on the day she was trapped in the village. It seemed her days as eye candy were coming back to haunt her. Erk rushed off, promising to find help but she could not help but wonder if he was cutting off his ties to her like so many others before him.

A fear that was proved groundless when a long haired myrmidon and a rouge with a mysterious grin came cutting through the village. Not quite the fairy tale heroes, but she took what she could grasp onto. She did what she did best and healed the wounds of others. She only wished she could heal herself too.

She stayed with the group for awhile, watching silently, not protesting as Erk was dragged away from her by a chatty pigtailed clerk. A girl who stood for everything she could never be. It was no wonder everyone preferred her.

But when she saw that red hair in the cloud of helmeted enemies, she allowed herself hope again. Her hand reached for her left ring finger and didn't let go.

She didn't know it was him at first, not at first sight. But when she saw his eyes go blank with some sort of shock, staring at her with all that fire gone, she knew. And she ran to her Raymond.

Only, it wasn't him. It was Raven, a mercenary who only barely resembled the boy she remembered and held close to her heart. And when she saw the way he hovered by the pretty blonde monk, she felt her heart break a little. A crack reverberated through the room, so loud she didn't know why people didn't look at her to wonder what was happening. Then she realized they couldn't hear it.

She tried so hard to grasp at the shreds of her Raymond that were left, but she felt them slipping fast. Eventually, she came to terms with the fact that the only one he would ever show his real smile to would be Lucius. And she refused to become to desperate girl who would fling herself recklessly between the red and the yellow. So, in she edged, because she couldn't give up entirely.

She started with sitting between them at dinner, ignoring Raven's annoyed looks and Lucius's sympathetic smiles. She chatted idly, throwing in comments every now and again, waiting for the moment when Raymond would show his true smile. And she treasured the moments, even though she knew they were not meant for her.

It all ended with a slice of Durandel, and the war was over. Even though she smiled on the outside, she couldn't help but call out desperately inside her head for more time. It was only a matter of pretending she was crying with joy.

She waved good-bye to them as they started off. Ray-Raven didn't even glance back once. Lucius only gave back a soft smile. And she kept a grin fixed on her face, nailing it on with everything she could find to use, every bit of strength inside of herself. Only after they were gone did she allow herself to cry, Erk standing awkwardly beside her. Because the last grip she had in the space between them, the orange space of her desperateness, slipped away with the last sight of his flaming crimson eyes.

That night, she stood outside her tent and watched the sun slowly sink down over the horizon, creating an orange glow on the grass. She knew that she finally had to let go of what she had lost. And with that, she pulled the feather away from her ear and gave it to the wind, where it had always belonged. Long hair might be a welcome change.

…

I never used her name. Huh. Odd. But you can see that it's about her. Who else is Raven's sister?

Thank you for reading. I hope you'll take the time to drop in a review; it would be much appreciated.

See you on the flip side!

PS: What does that phrase even mean? My friend used it today and I just kinda went "uh…yeah?" Is there an appropriate way to respond to that phrase? Whatever. See ya for real now!


	11. Gray: Amelia, Ross

Good (insert time of day here).

It seems that I'm feeling rather melancholy today. Because, I don't think that this is a very accurate description of Amelia, but it seemed perfect when I wrote it. Now…Not so sure.

I based this off of both Amelia and Ross's support convos and Amelia and Ewan's convos. Ewan's very subtle though. Sneaky kid. You probably don't even have to acknowledge him if you don't want to. He says he doesn't mind.

It's kinda short, but it seemed to be dragging on as I wrote it, so I stopped. Deal with it. Or don't.

Here's Gray starring Amelia and Ross.

…

Gray

She leaned on the fence that separated her from the outside world. It ran along the length of the village, a wooden picket fence that looked so enclosing and easy to exit at the same time. She hesitantly stood upon the first rung, glancing down nervously when it gave an ominous creak. She stepped down.

It had been four years since the war, and her life here had settled into an uncomfortably familiar routine. She didn't like things to be familiar. Part of the reason she had joined Grado's army had been to have some adventures.

Staying still had been great for one or two years. Ross was the best friend a girl could have, and it was nice to begin recognizing people and to have them recognize her. But then she began noticing what Ross was really after.

First, there were flowers, which she gratefully accepted, figuring that they were just a friendly gift. Then came the stutters and blushes which she dismissed more hesitantly. But then the jewelry and the chocolates…

She didn't feel the same. And for the first time, she began wondering if she should have gone on that trip around the world instead.

The wind blew her hair in her face, encouraging her to move forward, away away away from here. But she resisted, knowing that she couldn't leave without a word. And anyway, she could hear his footsteps behind her.

"Amelia?" she turned, wiping away the tears she hadn't known were there. His dark gray eyes asked questions that she couldn't answer without breaking a heart- either hers or his.

"Hey Ross!" she exclaimed, truly happy to see him. He was her best friend and always would be. He was the person she could trust with anything. Even though he shouldn't trust her, she would always be his confidante. Except when she left. If she left.

"You ready to go back?" he asked, smiling gently, because he's in love with her. And she smiles back and nods, because she loves him without the in.

"Yeah, I guess," She said, but she doesn't know. The wind pushes her away from him, over the fence, to a bright face with promises of amazing sights and fantastic lands. She should have gone on that trip, instead of coming here. She wondered if they both knew. Know. Know that she could never really be happy here.

But she had said she wanted it. And she banished herself to this tired town, where half the people had gray hair and withered faces. Where she could feel herself growing just as old as them.

"Let's go then," he said, offering her his arm. Staring at it for a minute, she registers that this is where she chooses. Last chance to go with an explanation and people to either wish her well or curse her name. Her mouth opens to say she can't take his arm, she has to go, to go find that promise of exciting experiences she can tell stories about and not have people sigh in boredom. Climb a mountain, sail a sea, cross a river, roll down a hill, and sleep under the shining stars.

But then, she sees his expectant charcoal eyes, waiting for her to accept his arm and grace him with a smile again. And her heart breaks a little bit, because whatever she chooses will haunt her forever. She doesn't want his hear to break, but she's selfish too.

She takes his arm with her own and grins, feeling the veil of gray cover her again. Postponing the inevitable. Whatever that may be.

…

Tada!!!!!

Did you see Ewan? No? Look behind you.

Haha. Made you look. Unless you didn't. I can't actually see you right now. You might have just shaken your head and scoffed at my silly attempt to scare you.

…LOOK BEHIND YOU!

…No? Okay.

I don't think Amelia would ever really pine after Ewan. I just think that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't like staying in one place all the time, especially after her experiences in the war.

What will she decide?

You decide.

Besides, she doesn't really exist.

On that note, Ye-bay!!!!


	12. Brown: Hector, Eliwood

Aloha!

Man, how long has it been? Since January or December? I could give you a whole variety of excuses for why I haven't been around, but you probably aren't interested, so I'll only give a few in brief terms.

My computer totally spazzed on me and wouldn't do anything without taking ten minutes to think about it. Fixed now, THANK GOD.

I got a pretty bad cold and was out of school for awhile. I couldn't look at a computer screen for very long without a pounding head.

I discovered the joy of Card Captor Sakura subbed. I started with the dub, and let me tell you was it awful. The subbed is so much better!

Family issues that I do not want to discuss.

And finally, basketball.

Done. So, please, find it in your hearts to forgive me and review.

…

Brown

Eliwood stares at cold mound of dirt where his father had once rested. His hand reaches down and skims over the surface, disturbing the varying grains of soil. The night air turns his skin cold and his eyes wet, but he does not make a move to leave.

The funeral had been this afternoon, but Eliwood has been standing vigil long afterwards. His mother had left around an hour or so before, kissing his forehead and walking indoors. Now, it was just him and the unmoving lump of soil.

"Father…" he whispers, the wind picking up his word and spinning it about in the air around him, with a melancholy sort of celebration.

_Father, Father, Father, _it whispers in his ears, crying for him and screaming for him and mourning in all the ways Eliwood could not bring himself to do.

He kneels beside the grave, falling stiffly to his knees, his joints turned rusty by the long stillness. Both hand press against the mound that covers the body now, fisting the dirt in tight hands.

"Father…" he whispers again, and the wind falls quiet to see what he has to say.

But Eliwood does not say anymore, only places his head down between his hands. It comes close to touching the dirt, but hovers an inch away.

That doesn't matter very much. He can still only see brown.

…

Hector watches the people clothed in black slowly march away, shaking off their sadness and going on with their day.

He is not so strong as to leave his brother's side easily. He has learned from that mistake. Nothing good comes of him leaving his brother. He should have stayed by his side like a good lord and everything would have been okay.

He can't even convince himself of that totally. What would have happened to Eliwood then? Would this be his friend's funeral, rather than his brother's?

But now is not the time for all of his what if's. Not in front of the freshly dug soil that covers his dear brother.

It is warm here in Ostia, much too nice a day to grieve. He would have usually been out sparring with the knights, not standing here in front of the cold soil.

But the brown soil covers someone important, and he cannot be nostalgic. He will only stay by his side a while longer. He will stay be his brother, even though he can't see him. He can only see the brown.

…

So. Appropriately brown enough for you? Enough sadness? Tell me so that I can improve. I should get around to updating my other works soon too. Look forward to that okay?!

I'm thinking that this one was a little too short. That's what I'm worried about. So, try to tell me about that especially, okay?

I'm back! To stay! Hopefully…

Sayonara!


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